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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29671764">His thing for skin</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/K0n3h0/pseuds/K0n3h0'>K0n3h0</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mafiafell (Undertale), Angst, Blood and Gore, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Forced Prostitution, Kidnapping, M/M, Mutual Pining, Platonic Relationships, Possible Character Death, Prostitution, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader-Insert, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Unrequited Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:21:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,495</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29671764</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/K0n3h0/pseuds/K0n3h0</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Normally, Papyrus wouldn't mind the people deciding to walk to the other side of the road or the long stares they give him because he knew that they'll be scared any moment when he looks back. Until he met a certain lady, all of that trust in his intense glare disappeared.</p>
<p>---this is my first story I'll be publishing here so please go easy on me, I also stupidly deleted this, sorry about that--</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Helping a certain pal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/8614135">Sooner or Later You're Gonna be Mine</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Staringback/pseuds/Staringback">Staringback</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'll be using she/her pronouns for Y/n, so change it to your preferred pronouns.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was a normal day in Ebott City. A normal day as in there's killing, drug dealing, and fighting. Usually, a mafioso would cause fights with civilians. Those who aren't familiar with how Ebott City works are the ones who mostly suffer a fate if they push the mafia the wrong way. Regardless, everyone is suffering from the killings, protection fees, turf wars, and other crimes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The monsters make the most of it. They may not be the friendliest, but they try their best to live even if... Racists roam among them. They have to deal with this type of people and if they don't deal with them in a friendly way, they'll either die or, if lucky, be sent to jail. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Luckily for humans, most of the monster kinds grew more polite and kind because of a child that fell into the underground they previously lived in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The kid's name was 'Frisk', they were the ones that made everything easier for them to live on the surface. Because the monsters won't be as friendly as now if Frisk didn't. The humans don't even know what Frisk saved them from. Frisk doesn't care about that, they only care that the monsters are being gentle to the humans—vice versa.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sort of... Because just today, Frisk had to help a certain pal of theirs from trouble caused by the humans. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A high-pitched yelp rang in the alleyway, if any closer by the entrance, anyone would hear the sound of pain. Inside was a teen who was immediately kicked down to the floor, his body almost covered with bruises, and scratches. Dirt and dust stuck on the fabric of his clothes. Blood dripped from his nostrils, and tears of pain streamed down his face. Amidst the kid going into immense pain, two men walked forward him at the dead-end of this area, laughing.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All of this because of a little argument with humans. If he had been more apologetic and kind as society expects a youth would be, he might have gotten away from trouble. Or if he was one of their kind, they might have been kinder to him. As said before, Humans aren't exactly kind to monsters, unlike the monsters who made efforts to show kindness. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Not that tough now, are you, kid?" One of them said as he knelt, spitting on the fifteen-year-old kid.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With the kid lacking arms and a foot suddenly placed on his back, he struggled to stand. Monster Kid just wanted to walk around the streets out of curiosity, and this is where his so-called curiosity led him to. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He glared and bared his teeth at them. He growled, "Get your feet off me or I'll fucking-" And mid-sentence, he screams as the man gripped around his neck, his nails digging into his skin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Or you'll what? Beat me to death? With what? Your non-existent arms?" said the man, his tone mockingly bruised Monster's pride. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Monster kid wriggled around the floor attempting to get out of his grip but then failed. When he made those moves, the man forced him to look at him, to look at his disgusting smirk. To this man's audacity to do anything to him, he desperately wants to bite that smile off that man's face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The other man flicked a cigarette off his mouth. He knelt afterward—with glaring eyes on Monster Kid. "Listen here, pal. Your kind isn't welcome on the surface. So why don't you do us a favor and go where you belong?" He said.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Blood boiled in Monster Kid, his entire body prepared to shoot up and just chase after them if they ever try to escape. He knew that he'll feel satisfied when he sees the fear in their faces, but he's helpless at this point. He did his best by struggling while thinking about the ways to make these assholes suffer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey!" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He gasped as his eyes grew large from hearing a familiar voice. The two men turned their heads behind them, the feet on Monster Kid's back removed themselves, letting him move freely, yet his entire body stiffened within the painful sore. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From the two men's perspective, a tall kid stood by the entrance of the alleyway. They wore a dark blue blouse, and a pink-colored vest, and their pants colored grey. The men couldn't see if the kid's eyes were open or not, but with the look of pushed-together brows and a frown, it was clear they're pissed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"FR—MMM!" Monster Kid tried his best to call out until the same man's feet lunged back on his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shut the fuck up, kid!" The man growled before he placed his glare on Frisk. He let out a low groan, "Mind your own business. This monster ain't worth your time." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The tall kid in front of them stayed silent. The silence lasted for about five seconds before the two men walked towards the tall child—cackling. Meanwhile, Monster Kid tried again to get back on his feet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey! Are you deaf? Mind your own business!" Even at the effort of the two men's demand, Frisk stood still, unfazed, with their soul filled with determination. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Frisk folded their arms and their frown expanded. "Why don't you both pick on one of your sizes?" They said, tilting their head, exhaling their anger. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And as a response, the two men laughed. Do these jackasses think that this shit is funny? Funny to assault a child because of their race? Frisk was disgusted by it alright. They were close to doing something so awful to these pricks that it'll be a reminder to them, a permanent reminder in their tiny ignorant brains. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Seriously, kid? Run along before we give you the same treatment as that monster." One of the men demanded with a firm tone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Even to the extent of Frisk's anger towards their kind not showing the same kindness that Monsters do, they didn't do anything. Although... It'll be satisfying if they did teach these jerks some lesson. It'll be satisfying to give them the same treatment but worse. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey! Were you even listening? Run along!"  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Still, Frisk stayed quiet with boiling anger residing in them. They wanted to test these pricks' patience, how much longer they can take before they try to even move a finger to them. Rest assured, these pricks won't get any closer to that even if they're determined as Frisk. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Proven correct when one of them tried to reach for Frisk's ear, a hand grasped around their fleshy wrist. Had it made both of them surprised with their hearts paused at beating for a moment. Sure they immediately knew that this stranger was of a monster kind by the skeletal hand—but their fear largely came from the fact that the monster's height might as well be seven feet... And that the monster was behind them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'd think better than to assault a child..." As the low raspy voice reached the men's ears, an intense shiver came across their spine uncontrollably. It grew the pace of the jackasses' beating heart as well as their breathing. The grip around the wrist tightened more that it could cause a bruise. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The jerks couldn't help but glance behind them. One turn of their heads they saw a tall thin monster bent—and leaned forth them, with tiny red lights floating in the center of his eye sockets. The two humans didn't know whether he was smiling or not expressed by the shadow cast by the fedora he wore. Although, they certainly knew that this monster was somewhat a criminal by his appearance, and criminals were treated with respect, or otherwise they'll treat you with the opposite of respect. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As he tilted his head, the floating lights in his eye sockets flickered, and a grin appeared. "Wouldn't you agree, humans?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Lost Opportunity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry, I took so long to publish another chapter! But here it is!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>Thud!</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Y/n fell on the floor after performing a pirouette. She failed to land afterward—and as a result of failing, her foot turned inward, possibly breaking the ligaments of her bones from the ankle region. It felt like her ankle was ripping apart every muscle, or as if something sharp stabbed through her skin. She squinted her eyes, her hands wrapped around her ankle, just the right amount of hold to not break it further. Biting her lip, her mind screamed at her on why'd she fall like that. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh my God, are you alright, Y/n?" shouted one of her colleagues after they ran towards her. Even their ballet teacher sprinted to her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She glanced, her fellow ballet dancers knelt around her with an obvious look of concern. Hesitant to talk with the sprain on her ankle, she allowed a soft chuckle to exit her mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ten years of dancing and now you do it terribly like this?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She thought.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After the chain of giggles, she weakly grinned. "I-It's just a sprain, I'll be fine." She retorted, trying to ignore the pain around her sprained ankle, the writhing and stabbing pain. The others stared at her and frowned—they knew how much Y/n was passionate about dancing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They knew that Y/n had so much perseverance to get through ten years of struggles as a ballet dancer. Do you know what the worst part is? Y/n never listened to her colleagues' advice, she always set it aside with a laugh. No matter how ruined her physical and mental state is, she will always come back determined. It's what her friends are missing when it comes to their passion: determination. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Being determined for the past ten years is an achievement for Y/n but still, it wasn't enough for her. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> for her friends. Because living in this city with an unwanted state is very energy-consuming. So that type of determination that lasted for long was something her friends would kill to have. However, that determination can deteriorate once something terrible happened. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Continuously looking at her, Y/n chuckled again, glanced at her teacher. Her teacher, Joana, frowned and crossed her arms. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Something about that manner made Y/n's smile twitch and her whole jolly manner slowly dissipated—</span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe it was because her mind was telling her possibilities of bad aftermath.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joana peeled her eyes away as she sighed, looking at the other dancers subsequently. "Get the ice bag in the lunchroom," said Joana. Just before three seconds could pass the dancers rushed out from the room, now having Y/n and Joana the only ones in there. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Y/n's smile subconsciously disappeared as she watched Joanna walk towards the corner of the room, before staring at her foot. Soon after, a temptation of stupidly squeezing around her broken foot arose. "This… goddamn foo–" Before she could finish talking and do something stupid; thin, soft hands settled on hers. She shot wide eyes upward, seeing her teacher knelt in front of her. And the previous temptation in her weakened. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joanna raised a brow and an edge of her lips lifted into a smug smile. "Were you trying to do something stupid, Y/n?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Y/n then responded with a low and brief chuckle. "Yes…" said Y/n.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joanna chuckled along before removing Y/n's hands off her sprained ankle and proceeding to take off her ballet shoe. Her gentle hold around Y/n's hands made her ignore the pain in her ankle for a little while. But that all returned once she held gently on her sprained ankle. Even with the intent of gently holding it, Y/n cringed and hissed at the pain as it sparked, then bit her lips afterward. Joanna noticed as soon as she felt her jerked so she released her hold around her student's ankle. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, Y/n," Joanna said with a frown. "But I'm sure the others will be here as soon as–"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They both heard the door slammed and so they whipped their heads and looked. The other students ran to them with only one of them carrying the ice bag. In each of their steps, their ballet shoes clapped against the smooth floor and echoed its noise all over the nearly empty room. There was no time to be graceful as a ballet dancer. After all, their dear Y/n has been injured. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Here!" said one of them, showing the ice bag and bandage to Joanna. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joanna, conspiring, grabbed the ice bag from their hands—and gradually by pace, moving the ice bag in her hand toward Y/n's sprained ankle. Before she completely settled the ice bag on the ankle, Y/n flinched and bit her lips afterward, squinting her eyes beforehand. The frigid touch of the ice bag startled her so badly that she almost dismissed the pain. But as soon as time passed, she endured it while her attention on the pain had finally vanished. And the pain weakened before the cold. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her colleagues as well as her teacher smiled. A true smile of joy emerged victorious on Y/n's face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Phew! That was close. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She thought.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She had been clouding her mind with thoughts that resulted in her panicking. Theories that were terrifying and depressing for her. It was the thought of having her ballet career gone because of an injury in a rehearsal. She would have felt like she disappointed herself and her family if ever this injury caused more troubles. Fortunately, all of that panic vanished to bits once the comfort of the ice on the sprained ankle of hers. It was relieving.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She laughed in her mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Suck on that brain. You thought you did anything to me—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ice bag pressed against her ankle, the pain sparked and she reacted with a loud hiss and flinched harder than before. "Ah! Fff..." She gasped, resisting to curse, her nails soon dug into the skin of her thighs. She glanced up at Joanna who simply looked extremely worried—it was an apologetic look too. Y/n’s unintentional furious look quickly went away after she realized that it wasn’t Joanna’s intent to hurt her. She would have regretted looking at her teacher with anger if she went any further with her expression.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not because she’ll get scared that Joanna will be angry back, but because being angry at someone who was only intended to help you can give her an intense feeling of guilt. Especially if that someone is a parental figure. In a time like this and since some of her friends were orphans, they were grateful to have a guardian like Joanna. Like any mothers, Joanna maintained a stern manner towards her students, making it a valuable reason for why they were amazing dancers and also a good attitude. If they lost Joanna, it would be like losing a parent again and they won’t have anyone to watch over them. It’d be difficult for them to live in this world.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was already tough. They always find a fight in the streets whenever they go home. They have to take some part-time jobs just to get money for everything. The rent of their apartments, the protection fees, their clothes, their food, their tuition for the ballet classes. Most of them were giving up on living or had lost their passion for dancing. And Joanna was always there for her students, comforting, and helping. She mostly helped with their money problems, and somehow, her wallet just never went empty.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s interesting, to say the least. All they knew about her was that she was their ballet teacher and a kindergarten teacher before, and they have never questioned more about her ever since. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Regardless of her mysterious life, Joanna slightly lifted the ice bag, worried about hurting Y/n again. “All of you except Y/n, go back on rehearsing.” She said with a clear voice and stern tone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ballet dancers rose from the floor, nodding, and returning to rehearsing their dance—with that, the beautiful music returned and soothed all of their ears. While Y/n and Joanna had alone time and an opportunity for a conversation. Although as minutes passed, none of them struck up a conversation nor seemed like they wanted to. That silence from both of them lingered with a spice of awkwardness, painfully showering down on them like pebbles. Joanna was completely focused on resting the ice bag on her student’s ankle while Y/n stared at everything so she could get distracted from the awkward silence.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what this means, right?” Y/n heard Joanna muttered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Y/n turned her head at Joanna, her brow raised in confusion. What does this mean? She’s completely fine. She’ll just heal and then go back on rehearsing, there was no way she wasn’t going to show up in the dance. Y/n couldn’t allow that because she knew that she spent her ten years practicing and nevertheless, went through a hard time performing, practicing, whilst trying to live a quiet life.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She snickered. “What… this means? Well, I’ll be back rehearsing… right?” The uncertainty and worry were obvious in her voice and she tried to hide it by chuckling.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joanna acknowledged that sudden behavior of hers, she smiled. "Of course," answered Joanna, and Y/n replied with a sigh of relief. Joanna shrugged, "If you fully heal from your injury today but that's impossible." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just like that, Y/n's relief had been pushed away by concern. She wasn't dumb enough to think a sprained ankle would take a day to heal, it takes a week or so. She'd have to wait for her injury to heal but tomorrow Saturday was their performance, meaning she won't be able to perform with the others. Thinking about it makes her blame her stupidity and her clumsiness for this. Only if she could have been more careful rehearsing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She planted her face on both of her palms. "Ugh, I can't believe I ruined it!" She mumbled. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No one can't blame Y/n for her devotion and passion for her talent—she loves dancing since a child. Although she had performed before but not in this type of theater. The one that she was going to perform in was bigger than the other theaters, it could fit a hundred people. She always imagined being heaped with praise and appreciation as she dances in that theater. All those deafening applause and cheers came across as worth it to her and it always made her smile. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It made her seem like she was a bit too confident in her talent or other words, egoistic. Although, she's only doing that because she wants to entertain and show how wonderful ballet dance can be. She despised the thought of having to displease someone with her talent—all that effort of trying to make someone enjoy watching her dance would have turned into guilt and displease in her talent.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Other than that, it took her ten years after all—and with that determination of hers, she should be rewarded. Even her friends and her teacher told her so. Yet here she was, sitting on the floor with an injured ankle and regret showering over her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A hand suddenly grabbed onto hers, moved them off her face afterward. She gazed up at Joanna, seeing a grin formed on her face. "You don't have to worry, Y/n. The important thing is you take a break so you can get that injury healed." Joanna beamed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"... Alright. I just wish I couldn't have been so careless and not get injured," Y/n sighed and her stare settled on her lap. "—I'm sorry about all of this."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You shouldn't be. You'll be back dancing sooner. Don't sweat it, sweetie." Joanna replied, her grin grew wider. "Also, I can invite you to watch them dance." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Y/n turned her head at Joanna, her eyes shortly widened as a soft gasp escaped her lips. "Wait—seriously? I don't.–"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joanna let out a laugh. "Yes, well, if you want to come with me. I'll be glad to have you with me, and I'm sure the others will be happy to see you watch them dance." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sure they will." Y/n's grin twitched as she tried to maintain joyousness about this offer. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She felt jealous hearing how her colleagues will be the ones who'd get the praise but she promptly dismissed that jealousy feeling as it lingered for a second. Then again, they also deserve the praise she wishes to get since they got through years of this bullshit with her, and watching them dance in the theater would be saying 'thank you' for not leaving her behind. This is the least thing she can do for their supportiveness, that is to give that same support back to them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And seeing how they have improved a lot and still have the courage and devotion to dance was something Y/n could be proud of.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joanna laughed again. "Okay, now let's get that patched up." She smiled, grabbing the bandage beside her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
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